Mating season
by terribly-vague
Summary: Every year, just as the last of the snow melted and the air yet again began carrying the scent of blooming greenery, all the dragon slayers across Magnolia went through a change. The members of Sabertooth would joke about the dragon slayers being in heat; their friends at Fairy Tail affectionately referred to it as "mating season." Stingue oneshot. Dominant/submissive theme
1. Chapter 1

He didn't need to look up from his book to see who had opened the bedroom door; he could tell by the scent in the air. "Do you think fairies actually have tails?" Sting laid sprawled across his king size bed, freshly showered and clad only in sweatpants. His boyfriend ignored him, making his way across the room and removing his cloak. He set it on the dresser they shared, then he went to work removing his shirt. "I mean we have all of this lore about fairies and there's nothing about them having tails. I wonder if that's just a play on words or something." When he was greeted yet again with silence, Sting looked up from his book.

"Oi, are you listening?" Sting set the open book on his chest and watched as the other dragon slayer finally turned to face him. His eyes traveled from Rogue's bare chest down to the pants that were completely open and hanging low on his frame, belt long forgotten on the bedroom rug. He couldn't quite place the look he was being given. Rogue looked legitimately angry with the white dragon; his eyebrows turned inwards and his red eyes were burning with intensity. "What's the matter with you?" Sting asked, perplexed. In public, Rogue mostly kept to himself. But when they were alone, it was different. He became this bubbling mess of happiness and the two of them would talk for hours about their day and training and the cats and the guild. Any other day he would have beelined straight to the bed and snuggled up right next to Sting; it was unusual for Rogue to be acting so distant when it was just the two of them. That's what Sting was thinking, right up until his boyfriend crossed the room and stood over him.

 _Oh._

In one motion he had managed to sit on Sting's lap and attach himself to the dragon slayer's throat, ripping the book from his hands and throwing it in no particular direction. Sting inhaled sharply at the sudden contact, the sensation of sharp teeth sinking into his skin bringing tears to his eyes. "Rogue" he choked out, panting now as the shadow mage sucked and bit at his flesh. Rogue worked his way up from the base of his throat, leaving a trail of black and purple bruises in his wake. He placed an open mouthed kiss on the sensitive skin just behind Sting's left ear. "What's gotten into you?" Sting questioned. Rogue sat up, rolling his hips into the quite obviously growing arousal underneath him.

"Shut up." He shifted their positions, placing Sting's thighs over his own. Without skipping a beat Rogue leaned in and sank his teeth into Sting's right collarbone, this time drawing blood immediately. Sting, unexpecting such ferocity, cried out. Unfortunately for him this only egged his partner on further. Rogue's tongue glided over the marred flesh, rendering the other boy helpless as goosebumps made their appearance on his skin. Then his teeth sank in again, this time on his shoulder. "That hurts!" Sting said playfully. It took a lot more than a few bites to hurt a dragon. Rogue lifted his head and grabbed his partner by the neck, his thumb and fingers digging into the dip just under his jaw.

"I thought I told you to be quiet." It was not a question. A surprised Sting looked up at his partner, but did not utter another word. He could feel the heat radiating from the man above him, could see the dilated pupils looking back at him with such intensity that it was frightening. And it was _so god damn hot_. "Are you going to behave?" Rogue asked, tilting his head and eyeing his prey. Sting nodded as best as he could with a hand around this throat. "Good." Smirking, he took a moment to marvel at how flustered his partner looked – open mouthed, red faced and panting – before leaning forward to finish his handiwork. His hand let go of his neck and snaked under the fabric that was keeping Sting's throbbing hardness hidden, eliciting a gasp when his fingers wrapped around the hot skin. He worked his way up the unmarked side of Sting's neck, this time pumping his hand as he created wonderful bruises with his mouth. Sting lay squirming underneath him, not daring to complain again.

Every year, just as the last of the snow melted and the air yet again began carrying the scent of blooming greenery, all the dragon slayers across Magnolia went through a change. The members of Sabertooth would joke about the dragon slayers being in heat; their friends at Fairy Tail affectionately referred to it as "mating season." Their temperatures spiked, their senses became even more acute, and their hormones soared sky high. They went through frequent mood swings, disappearing from the outside world for days at a time. Every year up until this spring, it had been much easier to cope with. The two didn't understand why the partners of the Fairy Tail dragon slayers had always needed so much time to recuperate after mating season. That was until they realized things were much different for a dragon who had found his mate.

Once he had reached the sweet spot behind Sting's other ear, Rogue once again sat upright to marvel at his masterpiece. Sting was marked from his collarbones to his jaw. Black and purple bruises danced across his flesh; pin needle holes where Rogue's teeth had broken the skin weeped red where they were still fresh. A grin spread across his face, his free hand reaching out to drag a thumb across his partner's lower lip. "You're mine." Sting sighed happily, smiling his agreement. He tilted his head to take the appendage into his mouth, twirling his tongue around it and suckling. Rogue stilled the hand that was still in the other boy's pants; he was suddenly much more interested in something else. Sting pouted, but did not voice his disappointment. Instead he watched as his partner pulled his hands back – pulling his thumb out of Sting's mouth with a _pop_ – to grasp at the pants still hanging loosely around Sting's hips. They were gone in seconds, the remainder of Rogue's clothing soon joining them on the floor.

Rogue leaned over his partner to open the top drawer of the beside table (or the "party drawer" as Sting liked to call it, given it's contents) to pull out a small bottle, and Sting took this opportunity to have some fun of his own. He placed open mouthed kisses across his partners chest, snaking a hand between Rogue's legs. Rogue hissed at the contact, and Sting was not surprised at all to find he was completely hard. _He's probably been like this since he walked in the room_ , he thought to himself.

"R-Rogue?" He asked as his partner straightened himself again, not stopping the languid motions of his hand. He was certain that if it were not for the fact that Sting has his dick in his hand, Rogue would have went for his throat again. Rogue looked at him through clouded eyes. "Permission to speak, sir?" At this the shadow dragon smirked, sharp canines darting past his lips.

"Granted."

"It's just that you've been giving me so much attention," Sting wrapped his fingers around the head and squeezed gently. He smiled when he felt hot wetness reach his hand, and he wasted no time using it to slicken Rogue's heated skin. "I want to return the favor." He grinned up at his partner and dragged his tongue lazily across the top row of his teeth.

"Oh you will." Rogue's hands roamed freely across the valley of his partner's stomach muscles; traveling down to his hips and then around to his ass where he gave a firm squeeze, simultaneously lifting him up and closer to him. Two of Rogue's fingers were soon coated in the contents of the bottle that was now discarded on the bed next to them; slowly but firmly he began rubbing circles into his partner's entrance. It didn't take long for a single finger to sink in, then the other. For the most part it was usually Rogue who bottomed in their relationship, but Sting was always hot and ready for him when the roles were reversed. He pumped his hand roughly, reaching as far as he could to get to that one spot, and when he did a loud groan escaped from Sting's lips. "You'll return the favor, alright, but right now you're going to lay here and keep making those delicious noises."

Sting was moaning freely now, his head thrown back in extacy. He reached to wrap his hand around his own member, mewling in protest when Rogue's hand stilled inside of him. "Did I give you permission to touch yourself?" Rogue asked. He loomed over his partner, looking him in the eyes. Sting squirmed under the shadow dragon's gaze and tried to ignore the sudden pounding in his chest. "I asked you a question."

"N-no, sir."

"So you're not going to, are you?"

"No, sir."

"Good." Rogue grabbed a hold of one of Sting's wrists, then the other, and held them in place above his head before his other hand started moving again. Almost immediately Sting responded, gyrating his hips in time with his partner's movements. His hands clenched and unclenched while his body writhed underneath the shadow dragon slayer. It never took very long for Rogue to push him to his edge. "Rogue" he panted. "I need you."

"Beg."

"W-what?" Rogue chuckled. His hand stilled again and he pulled his fingers out agonizingly slowly.

"Look at this. The great White Dragon Slayer, reduced to a stammering mess." A cruel grin spread across his face as he reached for his own member, reveling in the shocked and irritated look he was being given as he stroked himself.

"If you want me so badly you're going to have to prove it." Again he reached for the bottle, slathering it's contents on himself. He bit back a groan as wet, hot skin pumped over his organ. Sting watched helplessly as his partner pleasured himself while he lay there hot and ready and untouched. "Please."

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me. Oh god, Rogue, please. I need you inside of me plea-" A hot mouth enveloped his, cutting his sentence short. Tongues clashed against each other and Rogue positioned himself as his entrance in the blink of an eye. With no further prompting he began pushing his way into Sting's ass, the two of them moaning in tandem as he sheathed himself easily. He rocked into his partner gently at first, stretching him slowly so he didn't legitimately hurt him. When Sting gave the go ahead, however, his pace changed into something animalistic.


	2. Chapter 2

Neither one of them knew how or why they had ended up on the floor, and neither one of them particularly thought it important. They were focused on other things. It was moments like these that made Sting grateful for the house they shared together – no apartment neighbors to deal with, nice and secluded on the outskirts of town, away from the guild – because the two of them were making an awful lot of noise.

"Fuck!" Sting cried out, his head jerking towards the ceiling as Rogue claimed a fistful of his hair and yanked.

"You sure are vocal today," Rogue panted, nipping and sucking on his partner's shoulder blade as he pounded him senseless. They had been going for hours; both of the dragon slayers were bruised and bleeding, meeting their edge and tumbling over it together time and time again. This time Rogue was crouched above his partner, Sting's knees digging into the carpet relentlessly. A hand snaked around his waist and found his throbbing member, wrapping around it and pumping with vigor. At this touch Sting's legs began to tremble. "Shit!" he slurred, practically on the verge of drooling. "Shit, Rogue! I-I'm gonna-"

"No."

"Please, sir?"

"No. Not until I say you can." Sting whined helplessly, biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood in order to sway his mind into not thinking about how good Rogue felt inside of him, how hot and pleasing his touch was. It wasn't long before he felt himself being pushed forcefully against the ground. "On your side." Sting obeyed, rolling onto his right side and hiking his knees up, which were now raw and bleeding, as well. He positioned his right arm under his head just as he felt himself being filled again, and a fluttering gasp left his lips as they parted. Rogue continued his onslaught, his left hand gripping Sting's thigh as he drove into him wildly.

The noises that came from Sting's mouth was like music to his ears. He didn't think he would ever get tired of listening to the sounds his partner made when he was in complete, carnal bliss. Though they were both slack jawed and panting, and Rogue was sure his face was just as red as Sting's was, he marveled at how fucking perfect Sting looked when he was on the verge of coming. His eyes were shut tight, his brows furrowed intensely and his nostrils flaring without warning. It was beautiful. Rogue's hips stuttered, his rhythm faltering, and he soon found himself pressing as deep as he could into his partner, spilling his seed for the umpteenth time that night. Pulling out slowly, he turned Sting onto his back. "Rogue," Sting choked, a desperate plea for release in his eyes.

"Alright." Rogue wrapped both hands around Sting's still throbbing member and massaged up and down, pumping slow at first and gradually picking up more speed. Sting's eyes closed again, his head thrown back against the floor. "Come for me." There it was again, those sounds that were extacy in his ears. Sting moaned wantonly, thrusting his hips uncontrollably as he quickly reached the edge and tumbled over it.

"Thank you, thank you, sir!" He cried as his body collapsed, all muscles loosening and spent. Instead of lying down with him, Rogue snaked one arm under Sting's knees, the other around the back of his neck. He picked him off the floor and carried him, albeit labored, to the bed where Sting was placed gently among the bedsheets. As much as he wanted to crawl into bed with him, he knew there was no way he would be able to rest peacefully knowing that the both of them were sticky with fluids. He made his way to the bathroom where he wiped himself down, returning with a towel to do the same to Sting, who was already falling asleep. "C'meer," he said, lifting his arms and reaching for his boyfriend. Rogue smiled, leaning into his touch and placing a small kiss on his forehead. "Let me put this in the hamper and I'll come join you." Sting pouted, wrapping an arm around his partner's neck. "Sleep. Laundry can wait."

Rogue chuckled, discarding the towel on the floor. "Alright, fine." He rolled into their bed and was greeted with Sting nuzzling into his neck and promptly falling asleep. Exhaustion finally taking it's toll, Rogue followed suit the moment he closed his eyes.

 **Bonus:**

When Sting opened his eyes he decided that they were probably the only thing on his body that did not ache. For a moment he just stared at the ceiling, feeling his heartbeat throb painfully through every bite and claw mark. He knew the yearly hormonal changes affected everyone differently and that Rogue became possessive and dominant while Sting usually found himself longing to be taken – the total opposite of the boys normally – but that was before they had started having sex, before they realized what they meant to each other. _Is this gonna happen every year?_ He thought to himself, ableit smiling. He attempted to turn his head to look over at his still sleeping partner, but to no avail. He found he was unable to move his neck at all without his swollen skin crying out in protest. He opted instead to shifting his entire body sideways, rolling onto his left shoulder stiffly.

Rogue was unconscious and snoring. His legs were sprawled across the bedsheets, his arms above his head; disheveled black hair spread across his face and pillow with his mouth hanging open. A giggle bubbled up inside Sting as he gazed lovingly at his partner. He was usually so quiet and proper, yet here he was snoring and drooling; everything about him was in disarray. Considering the workout they had both had the night before, Sting didn't blame him for it in the slightest. "Rogue" he said. It took a couple more tries to wake the sleeping dragon, but when Rogue finally opened his eyes a lazy smile spread across his face.

"G'morning." He said, his voice heavy with sleep. His arms came down and his hands brushed the hair away from his face before a tired yawn slipped past his jaw. He rolled onto his right side and nuzzled his head close to Sting's, their noses touching. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit."

Rogue chuckled, pulling back to admire the artwork dancing across the white dragon's skin. Looking at him now, he realized, those bruises did look pretty painful. The shadow dragon was sure there were some areas that were probably still bleeding.

"I didn't mean to get so carried away, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. That was the hottest fucking thing that's been done to me in my entire life." Sting said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "You should do that more often. But we should probably buy a first aid kit or something." The two giggled; who knew essentially beating the shit out of each other could be so much fun? "Legit though I can't move very well, everything hurts." Rogue smiled and leaned in to gently kiss his partner first on the nose, then on the lips. It seemed that he was back to his happy bubbling self, for now. "Alright, I'll make breakfast. You stay here and recuperate. I'll bring it in here when it's done and we can eat in bed."

"You're the best boyfriend I've ever had."

"I'm the _only_ boyfriend you've ever had, you dunce." Rogue rolled onto his other side and sat up, planting his feet on the carpet below him. He reached for the closest article of clothing – Sting's sweatpants that had been discarded and forgotten on the ground – and put it on before making his way to the door. "You need anything?"

"A good look at that ass." Rolling his eyes, Rogue turned to look at his winking boyfriend who had rolled onto his back and was now completely sprawled out across the bed.

"I meant like do you want a glass of water or something."

"Nah, I'm okay."

When he returned, two plates of waffles with scrambled eggs in his hands, he found Sting sitting up in bed, doing his best to rub the stiffness from his shoulders. He gazed at the marks he had left on his partner, a sudden feeling of possessiveness pooled in his stomach along with another feeling.

"Uh oh. I know that look. Are you going to punish me again, sir?" Sting said, that sly grin on his face that drove Rogue up a wall.

"I just might if you don't curb that fucking attitude, mister."


End file.
